


blinking game

by idlesong



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Pining, lots of it !
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 19:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17904239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idlesong/pseuds/idlesong
Summary: Guanheng has a crush that he’s having trouble keeping to himself, as in, every one of his band members finds out about his crush on Ten before Ten himself.





	blinking game

**Author's Note:**

> title from jonghyun's song [♡](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zujYmao47hY)

The first time they meet, Guanheng wonders whether it’s possible for someone to be so pretty.

Ten is three years older, noticeably shorter, and has a presence too remarkable to ignore. He can command attention if he wants to, but he doesn’t have to, instead just smile and laugh and the rest of the room will too—not a mood maker by definition, but something about him puts the atmosphere at ease.

When the seven of them are assembled, he’s had the most experience performing out of all of them, and despite not being the most fluent wielder of yet another language, he picks it up quickly enough to become a good friend to anyone.

Guanheng has his reservations, of course, towards having to partake in this experiment of the company, this ever-expanding concept whose progression at times still confused him. But he trusts the others, finds their grouping to be cohesive, and although he feels like he has great strides to make, the challenge hardly feels as intimidating when he’s living through it.

It’s their third week of practice together, and when he comes into the studio the only other person there is Yukhei, who’s sitting on the floor against the mirror, long legs spread apart as he stretches. He had intimidated Guanheng at first, and apparently vice versa, although Guanheng hardly understands why.

Then Yukhei had flashed one smile in his direction, the one that took up the whole of his face, and Guanheng realized that _oh_ , there was absolutely nothing to fear at all. Yukhei smiles at him all the same as the others come through, a little sleep deprived but bouncing with excitement.

Yangyang is laughing as he strides in alongside Kun, and the way Yangyang has taken to sticking by the older man’s side has been nice to see. Dejun is smiling too, and says hi to Guanheng first.

Ten and Sicheng are the last to show up, probably the least affected by the rest of the nervous energy in the room. They’re talking casually, with Ten’s Mandarin coming quicker than it was just a few weeks ago. Initially there had been a lot of pointing and short sentences between all of them, a little too timid as of yet to speak comfortably.

Ten had pulled Guanheng aside after a preliminary meeting, one of the first few occasions that gathered all seven of them together. Guanheng immediately wondered whether he had done something wrong, didn’t speak enough or make enough eye contact that he’s going to be reprimanded for it.

But Ten said, sheepishly, “My Chinese teacher wants me to practice conversation more often. Is it okay if I text or call you from time to time?”

“Of course,” Guanheng nodded, and Ten’s grateful smile in return was truly all the thanks he needed. “But wouldn’t you be more comfortable with Kun or Sicheng?”

“I’ve gotten too used to how they speak,” Ten said. “I need to start all over.”

 

Ten is beautiful, and it’s tearing Guanheng apart, because he needs to focus on his career right now, and can’t let some elementary-school crush trip him up right when he’s hurdling toward the most important part.

Except Ten doesn’t let up in making Guanheng drawn to him. He’s all amiability and toothy smiles around the temporary house they’ve moved into and intense focus and perfect execution in all of the work that he does. Guanheng isn’t sure if he likes him as much as he wants to be like him.

Even when Guanheng messes up, fumbles the count, and makes the song have to start over, no one, but especially not Ten, will berate him for it. It still makes him embarrassed. He wants to be as perfect as Ten seems to be, even if he realizes he’s just projecting his anxieties onto his friend. He’s as driven as all the rest, but he still wants to push himself harder, prove his place.

“Don’t overdo it,” Ten advises him. They’ve split themselves between two vehicles, Sicheng, Yukhei, and Kun in the car behind them, on their way to shoot their album jacket. Guanheng’s been fiddling with a clip in his hair too much, but he still hadn’t been sure whether the exhaustion was obvious in his face until Ten points it out.

“What gave it away?” Guanheng asks.

“I used to wear the exact same look on my face,” Ten says, withdrawing his earphones from his pocket. “You’re better off holding back a little and conserving your energy in the long run. You don’t want to burn out so early.”

Guanheng frowns. He looks to the backseat, where Dejun and Yangyang have their heads leaned against each other, asleep.

“This is going to make me sound _much_ older than I am, but I was your age when I debuted, you know,” Ten continues. “I know how it feels to want to prove yourself so much. I’d have nearly died for it. But you’ll get so many chances to do that. Relax while you can.”

“Th-Thanks,” Guanheng says, rather lamely, before adding, “you know, you inspire me. Everyone does, but you, especially.”

Ten laughs. “I thought it was too early for me to have inspired anyone. Tell me again in a few more years, that information ages me.”

Guanheng laughs too, and he rolls his head over in his seat to spend the rest of the ride catching up on sleep.

 

Yangyang, of course, finds out first. It’s this look on his face that is often followed by some mischief that Guanheng’s usually glad to partake in, but today it’s too pointed for Guanheng not to feel uneasy.

“What is it?” Guanheng asks, feigning ignorance.

Yangyang’s smile grows wider. “You’re crushing on Ten,” he says softly, and immediately Guanheng can feel his face flush. Judging by the absolutely delighted noise that Yangyang makes, Guanheng supposes he can’t deny it. Not when a mere assertion could make him turn so red.

“How did you know?” Guanheng asks under his breath. The dressing room is wide, but sound travels easily, as evidenced by Sicheng’s voice carrying over from the opposite side.

“Yukhei guessed it, and I had to confirm,” Yangyang says. That information makes Guanheng bristle. He hasn’t known Yukhei well for too long, but he’s spent an awful lot of time with him in the past few months, and he isn’t exactly confident in his and Yangyang’s abilities to keep quiet about something.

“Okay, so will you two also be taking responsibility and finding me a nice coffin to bury me in?” Guanheng asks, lips spread and teeth bared in an expression that isn’t a smile but is trying very hard to be one.

“You were being pretty obvious from what Yukhei told me,” Yangyang explains, although it’s doing nothing to necessarily make Guanheng feel better about the situation. “Just couldn’t take your eyes off him, could you? Honestly, you kind of look alike from certain angles. Maybe this is some narcissism coming into play—“

“Please stop,” Guanheng says with a groan. “Just do it. Bury me six feet under.”

“Sure,” Yangyang grins. “Maybe if we bury you vertically your head will stick out. That’d be a nice ego boost, huh?”

 

Dejun finds out next. Out of anyone in the group, he was bound to. Guanheng’s plenty displeased that others are figuring this out without him admitting to it. He thought that this would only ever stay his problem if he never talked about it, but he’s coming to realize secrets don’t stay secret in the dorm. It’s harder to hide now that they all live together.

It’s close quarters. Guanheng’s willpower is being tested. He’s doing his best to remain calm, act as friendly as always to everyone, but his mind wanders much farther when he knows that Ten’s sleeping two doors down from him. In his fantasies Guanheng doesn’t do anything _sudden_ , just semi-assertively grabs Ten’s shoulders and tells him that he um, that he likes him. And in these dreams Ten just smiles beautifully back and Guanheng doesn’t think any further than that because he doesn’t want to admit that even in his dreams he gets rejected.

“You look distracted,” Dejun says, hardly glancing up from his book. It’s fairly quiet now, the morning having been filled with consecutive meetings that left them with free time to spend. Starting tomorrow they would have a week straight of video shoots and choreography rehearsals and studio sessions. It was meant to be brutal. Most of the others were catching up on sleep, Guanheng surmised, except for Ten and Sicheng who had gone out to eat.

“I’m just thinking,” Guanheng answers quietly. He had brought a book out to the living room as well, not that he had made any progress reading it in the past half hour.

“It’s so obvious.” Dejun bothers to make eye contact with Guanheng this time, shifting positions to face him from the other side of the couch. “At first I thought you were getting nervous with all of these schedules coming up, but you’re acting different from that.”

“What?” Guanheng flips to the next page without having read the previous one.

“I noticed. You perk up whenever Ten calls for you,” Dejun says with a knowing smile. “You take any chance to touch him. You laugh louder. Your eyes follow him around the room.”

“Yangyang said that too,” Guanheng mumbles with discontent.

“Yangyang knows?” Dejun’s brows knit together, upset at not having figured it out first.

“Yukhei guessed it, and told Yangyang,” Guanheng says, which seems to confuse Dejun even further.

“That means Kun knows too,” Dejun says. “You know Yangyang will tell him anything.”

“And to think he used to be on our side!”

Dejun laughs. “Things haven’t changed. He’s always been on his own.”

 

Guanheng spends the following week trying, to the best of his abilities, to relax. There are currently so many more things to be worried about right now than a little crush. Plus, to take extra care in not being suspicious, Guanheng acts without concern around Ten, puts effort into being a good friend and fellow member to him before anything else. For the sake of the team, it’s his responsibility to be cordial.

It’s easy, considering Ten is Mr. Congeniality, instantly warm and amiable to everyone despite his limited, but rapidly improving, linguistic inventory. Guanheng hopes to think that he’s the same, but he needs another push of confidence sometimes. Just a little something extra.

He finds it in Ten, he thinks, that easygoing nature that comes with charisma. It starts to be fostered in himself, too, he can tell. Things with the group have been going so quickly that it’s been difficult to stop and be overly self-critical. It’s been a lot of acting without worrying too much about what could trip him up, and it’s actually working out.

“You’ve been a lot brighter lately,” Ten says to him the first day of their introductory video shoot. They’re both still bundled up in parkas, the large open area of the set not leaving many warm spots of which to take advantage.

“Yeah? I guess I have,” Guanheng agrees, a little proudly.

“Good thing too, I used to worry early on whether you didn’t like me,” Ten says with a laugh.

Guanheng laughs too, although it comes out squeakier than usual. Ten has no idea. “How could I not like you?” he asks earnestly.

“I don’t know, but either way I’m thankful. You’re practically my Chinese teacher in the team. I wouldn’t have gotten this comfortable speaking without you,” Ten smiles.

Guanheng’s about to say something in mild protest, along the lines of—it was your hard work to thank—but he spots a camera coming their way, so he merely points out its presence to Ten.

“Is this for a behind-the-scenes video?” Ten asks, and the easy transition of the three English words between the Mandarin makes Guanheng’s heart swell in pride.

Ten nudges him with his elbow. “Big smile,” he says, before relaying an explanation of where they were for the camera. Guanheng almost gets distracted while watching Ten speak, until he realizes Ten is looking to him to say something.

“His Chinese has really improved!” are the first words out of his mouth, and when Ten protests, Guanheng tuts in disagreement and grabs his shoulder reassuringly. Ten reiterates Guanheng’s language help to the camera and the latter can’t stop smiling. It’s a nice moment. He hopes he can have more with him.

 

Things have gotten busier, and in a way, have also settled down. The seven of them don’t exactly have time to dwell on small fumbles when there’s always something new to be focusing on, another occasion to prepare for. Guanheng thinks he’s starting to get used to it, as hectic as it is, but he can’t even begin to articulate how _happy_ he is that his career is starting at last.

He’s happy, as happy as he is busy, and even though his previous crisis isn’t as prevalent as before, he can’t help how it appears in his mind every odd moment. Mostly it’s something he deliberates over when he’s about to go to bed, because it’s the only quiet moment he can be afforded. He used to wonder whether his feelings for Ten were out of admiration more than anything romantic, that it was a projection of desire rather than desire itself.

It was certainly a possibility, but no longer. Because now Guanheng _knows_ Ten, has seen him in nearly every state of emotion and energy and liked every one of them. He especially likes how playful Ten can be despite how tired they all are, that he can brighten the general atmosphere and be a source of comfort to the rest of them.

The two of them have been speaking more than ever, because Ten is making a real active effort to improve his Mandarin, and the rapid improvement is just reaffirming Guanheng’s belief that Ten must be good at everything. Even still these informal lessons of theirs are often plain conversation, meaningful jokes traded between them as Ten reaches toward English for Guanheng to repeat it in Mandarin so some more knowledge is tucked away on Ten’s end.

Despite that Guanheng is still eager to hear whatever Ten has to say about how he’s faring himself, wanting any bit of confirmation that he’s doing as well as he can be, that he’s living up to the standards he’s set for himself. And every time, without any prompting, when Ten compliments him on one thing or another, Guanheng can’t help but get giddy. No amount of Yangyang pulling amused faces at him from the other side of the room will damper his joyfulness either.

“You’re being obvious,” Dejun says in Cantonese, voice melodious enough to be mistook for a lyric.

“Am not,” Guanheng answers, a smile on his lips that drops as soon as Ten enters the room fresh out of wardrobe, wearing a shirt that could do with a few more buttons leading up to his neck. Or not. Guanheng’s content with it having no buttons either.

“Are too,” Yukhei adds, putting an arm around Guanheng’s shoulder. “But it’s okay, we won’t tell. Right, Yangyang?”

Yangyang, having heard his name being called, looks up from the video game in his hands. “What was that?”

“We won’t tell anyone about _this_ one’s problem,” Yukhei repeats, in Mandarin this time.

“Yeah, of course,” Yangyang says with a smile that Guanheng is all too used to seeing. It’s the one of feigned innocence, appearing often after he’s done or said something he shouldn’t have. Guanheng has had the fortune of being the recipient of said smile only a few times, Yangyang most frequently directing it to Kun instead.

“And you told Kun, didn’t you?” Guanheng sighs.

“It might’ve slipped out,” Yangyang says. “But it was a vague statement, maybe he didn’t even realize!”

“This is why I don’t tell you anything,” Dejun says pointedly.

“You never share any secrets with me,” Yangyang whines. “I don’t even know your blood type!"

“All I’m required to share with you is a room.”

“It’s A. Go figure,” Yukhei snorts.

 

Guanheng can’t sleep. His mind won’t put his body to rest. It’s frustrating, because he can’t afford to waste this time. He thinks about what Ten said to him before, about conserving his energy. He needs as much as possible to do his best. Maybe he also needs a glass of water.

Slowly, he shifts out of bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping figure on the other side of the room. Tomorrow they’ll be shuffled off to one show recording or another, making their first impression on the nation and the anticipating fans. He’s a little terrified of their expectations towards himself and Yangyang and Dejun especially.

The living room is entirely different as it is now, devoid of the high energy that occupies the space when they’re all in it. Guanheng’s become so used to everyone’s company without realizing it. Quiet, alone time is incessantly valuable, but the opposite has become his default.

Right now, it’s only him. And the man sat with his knees up on the floor, facing the balcony.

Ten turns his head slowly as Guanheng approaches, footfalls still cautious as though Ten were sleeping too. But he only smiles in an unexpectedly tired manner. It wasn’t the smile that hid his fatigue, it was an expression that conveyed it. It felt far too personal to be shown to him.

“What are you doing up?” Ten asks.

“That’s my line.”

“I asked first,” Ten says, maintaining the gentle curve of his lips, and Guanheng fidgets for a moment before sitting down next to him, cross-legged.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he answers. “Too worried.”

Ten looks at him, and his eyes are a shade much darker than Guanheng could ever imagine in association with him. There’s a depth to it, not into which Guanheng wants to fall voluntarily. He’s drawn to it anyway, can’t help but be pulled into it like every other aspect of Ten’s that he’s grown weak for. Ten, who seems so small right now in his fragility that doesn’t need to be stated any further than the breath he exhales.

Guanheng wants to help him, but he doesn’t know how to help himself. Maybe he’s still too young, doesn’t have the same experience he needs to wait to possess before he can help anything.

“I thought I’d gotten used to this not-having-a-permanent-home thing. But it’s never easy.” Ten is thinking out loud more than he’s talking to Guanheng, but he’s nevertheless grateful that Ten’s choosing to let him into his thoughts. “I’m trying to grab at something stable but there’s nothing. Nothing about this is stable.”

“Are you…” The word is heavy on Guanheng’s tongue. It feels too close to ask anyone, it was a question that was difficult enough to ask oneself. He cuts through the thought. Instead, he shifts closer, so their shoulders touch. This was all he could offer in definite support.

“I’m here for you,” he says instead, and the air settles in the room comfortably.

“Thank you,” Ten whispers, leaning his head against Guanheng’s shoulder. He feels guilty wishing for more. The feeling gets pushed down. This isn’t about him. It’s about the man about whom he cares so deeply, the one who’s letting himself show vulnerability in this privileged moment. Guanheng wants to embrace him, but that may be too much.

 

Following that night, Guanheng ruminates on what more he can do without being overbearing. The last thing he wants to be is a burden. He realizes that Ten would be unlikely to ever feel that way, but it’s still something he keeps in mind. It’s a delicate situation, as far as he can tell, so Guanheng does what he does best.

He puts on a smile, and he tries to be a friend. He sticks close to Ten, talks to him whenever they have a chance, uses any opportunity to make him smile too. It’s not a drastic change from before, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. No one says anything outright, but Kun gives Guanheng a knowing smile that all but confirms that Yangyang has loose lips.

It feels like they’ve been spending most of their time lately just _waiting_ , in a car, in a salon, and right now in a green room. They’re not due to perform until later in the shoot, so getting ready doesn’t take as long, but they’re left waiting for everyone else to prepare.

“What are you doing?” Ten asks, leaning over the side of the couch to where Guanheng’s sitting on the floor. Every other place to sit is taken, but the floor is carpeted and comfortable enough.

Guanheng flashes his phone screen at Ten to show him the bright and colourful puzzle game he’s playing. Ten laughs.

“What are you doing?” Guanheng asks back. Ten nods his head to what he’s been holding in his hand, a small spiral-bound book filled with thick blank pages. It’s the one Guanheng’s seen on the table in the dorm living room, sometimes sticking out of the older man’s backpack when they’re on their way out. “Okay, what are you drawing?”

With a proud beam, Ten flips the book around to show Guanheng. It’s a pencil sketch of a person’s side profile, their gaze modestly downcast. Guanheng takes a moment to register it, but the drawing is of him.

“It’s pretty, right?”

“Like me?” Guanheng says, cheekily, but Ten answers earnestly, with another smile that Guanheng has trouble believing is for him.

“Like you.”

 

That’s all Guanheng thinks about for the rest of the day, the week, those two little words that could have followed so many an exchange but had to be answered to _that one_. It’s a waste of time to be dwelling on their meaning—it was almost certainly just said without too much thought, with no intended consequence.

Yet Guanheng is still thinking about it as though it was a task assigned to him. He wants to think that it was just a one-off occasion, that it’s just how Ten’s personality is, and he would believe it if the expression directed towards him hadn’t been so warm.

“Hey, teach,” Ten says, popping his head through the doorway of Guanheng’s bedroom. His hair is damp, having recently showered, and being towel dried as casually as he is ruining Guanheng’s life with the visual. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“What movie?” Guanheng asks, giving a considerate amount of attention to pronouncing words with the mouth that went dry as soon as he saw Ten.

“Some romcom. I didn’t download subtitles so I could practice but I don’t want to miss any of the plot,” Ten explains with a smile.

“Sure,” Guanheng says, trying very hard not to keep staring at how Ten’s sleeveless tank keeps shifting with every movement he makes.

“My room’s kind of a mess, can we watch here?”

Guanheng nods, voice trapped in his throat, and it’s only when Ten steps out briefly that he realizes this is going to be a difficult few hours.

Because it’s hard enough that his bandmate, his _friend_ is as attractive as he is, but to be in such close vicinity? Their shoulders are pressed together in the small space of his bed and near enough that Guanheng can feel every small cough or shift of Ten’s. He’s trying so hard to pay attention to what’s going on in the movie too, so he can clarify anything when Ten asks, but he might have fumbled an explanation in the process.

“I thought that was his sister, not his ex-wife?” Ten asks quizzically, pausing the movie.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Guanheng quickly corrects himself. “There’s a lot of characters to keep track of.”

“You’re right. Maybe I should have picked something with less dramatic twists,” Ten says with a laugh.

“But it seems like you understand most of it,” Guanheng says, smiling. Besides a few unimportant details, Ten seemed comfortable enough with the content.

“I get the gist of it. It’s not _too_ bad. Better than some of those period dramas Sicheng was trying to get me to watch,” Ten says. “Those have too much…”

“Terminology?” Guanheng offers.

“Dialect. I forgot the word for it,” Ten sighs, tipping his head back.

“One word is fine. You’re learning a lot at once, it’s natural,” Guanheng says, feeling his heart thrum at the sight of Ten’s side profile, his eyes closed and expression serene. He wishes he had a way to capture it.

Ten peeks one eye open at Guanheng, who thought he’d been caught staring, but instead Ten shrugs in resignation. “I guess you’re right. No point in being too hard on myself about it,” he says. “Why’d I leave Thailand to go to Korea to become a singer in China?”

“Because the company knew not to contain your talent to one country.” Guanheng laughs, but he wholeheartedly believes it.

“Shut up,” Ten says, but he’s laughing too, then leaning his head against Guanheng’s shoulder. They’re in the same position as they were in that night, which they hadn’t ever addressed, although Guanheng hasn’t looked at Ten the same since. Not in a bad way, but it was the first time he saw a peek past all of the chaos and elegance. It had been a silent moment between the two of them, and it was almost painful to recall it, since Guanheng wishes he had done something more.

Even with the fluorescent lights of the bedroom turned off, the proximity of the laptop’s screen is enough to make Ten’s expression visible as close as his face is to Guanheng’s. He’s looking down at him, conscious of how his breathing is in the same rhythm as Ten’s. Ten glances up, and Guanheng doesn’t shy away from the locked gaze this time, although his hands curl into fists underneath the covers.

“Hey,” Ten whispers, taking a pause during which Guanheng’s breath hitches. “Can we keep watching?”

Guanheng exhales, partially relieved. “Yeah.” He clicks play.

 

Dejun’s the one to say it: “You always like you’re about to fall into pieces.” It’s a statement with which Guanheng doesn’t disagree, but he’s not necessarily unhappy about it. There’s no extreme harm in what he’s doing, although the risk is still there.

“I’m fine, I promise,” Guanheng says, and he means it. His friend doesn’t look entirely convinced, but Dejun has always been on the more cautious side. On the other hand, Guanheng thinks more with his heart than his head, although if it were the opposite one may better protect the other.

“I trust you on that, but you’d tell me if something was worrying you, right?” Dejun asks with a small smile. It’s a question of their friendship, reaffirmed. Guanheng returns the smile to dispel the worries. They’ve been through enough that he doesn’t need to verbalize it, as often as he’s used to talking things through.

“I think you should tell him,” Dejun says, and it makes Guanheng jump, even though they’re speaking lowly, in Cantonese, in a car with their manager driving and Yangyang passed out in the passenger seat.

“I don’t think I should,” Guanheng whispers. “We’ve become such good friends. I don’t want to tamper with that. I don’t want him to think that I’ve had ulterior motives this whole time.”

“It’s _him_. You and I both know he wouldn’t make that assumption.” Dejun’s brows raise at his statement, and it’s a pointed action toward a truth that Guanheng’s never considered. Even still, he doesn’t want to be concerned over it. He’s made up his mind.

Guanheng’s happy as is, he thinks. He’s long come to terms with the fact that although his feelings for Ten are strong and undeniable, he also cherishes the friendship he’s built with him too much to throw any curveballs its way. Telling Ten that he has deep, deep romantic feelings for him would be one such curveball.

Guanheng shakes his head. “I’m alright. If I ever tell him, it’ll be when I’m really, really dying to.”

“And in the meantime, you can just be dying,” Yangyang says in a string of sleepy Mandarin, turning to look at them from the front seat. When they both stare at him in confusion, he shrugs. “I’ve been picking up more Canto than you think.”

 

As much as he’s cooled down in his frantic actions over the past few months, has managed to be around Ten without exposing even a smidgen of his nerves, it hasn’t stopped the other members from absolutely clowning Guanheng about it any chance they get. They’ll tease him all the way into the company bathroom.

“If Sicheng found out, do you think he’d tell Ten?” Yukhei asks, just to mess with Guanheng as he’s washing his hands. Next to him, Yangyang snorts.

“Maybe,” Yangyang says, hopping to sit on the sink counter. “It’s Sicheng. He probably already knows.”

Guanheng flicks water in his direction, and Yangyang yelps. “I’m so glad everyone is heavily involved in this situation with me,” he deadpans.

“That’s why we make such a good team,” Yukhei says with a loud laugh, handing Guanheng a paper towel from the dispenser behind him. “I never get to hear about friends being all heart-eyed anymore.”

“What, no one in Korea is crushing on each other?” Yangyang asks, a delighted grin on his face.

“They’re all too good at hiding it! I’m hoping Jungwoo can do some recon for me, if he doesn’t end up falling for Doyoung himself,” Yukhei sighs dramatically.

“Maybe that’s what you can be gossiping about instead of me?” Guanheng suggests with some unfounded optimism.

“No way. That’s all speculation, but we _know_ this is happening,” Yangyang points out. “I think we’re all rooting for you to confess to Ten anyway.”

“I don’t think that’s up to any of you,” Guanheng says, at a point between amused and exasperated. “Maybe once we’re not busy every second of every day anymore I’ll tell Ten that I’m in _love_ with him.” He’s expecting the both of them to follow suit with his laughter, but they’re quiet, eyes instead focused on how the door’s swung open behind Guanheng.

“Hey, Ten,” Yukhei says, seeming to want to break the silence. It’s always been in his nature to want to end an awkward situation, but this one isn’t so well rectified despite his efforts. Yangyang perhaps sucks in the harshest breath Guanheng’s ever heard, the sound grating slipping through his teeth and pulled back lips.

When Guanheng finally turns around, he can’t imagine how his own face looks right now when facing Ten’s, looking entirely flustered with pink-tinged ears. He sidesteps the three of them to step into a stall down the corridor and, having no other method of escape than this, Guanheng books it out of the bathroom.

 

For the following few hours, Guanheng writhes in agony before someone finally puts him out of his misery. He fully expects it to be Dejun to come collect him from under his covers and shake some sense into him, perhaps slap him a few times if he has to.

As soon as they had all returned to the dorm, Guanheng had mumbled something about having no appetite (which was true) and retreated to the safe haven of his bed where he could pretend the whole day never happened.

This is an immature thing to do, Guanheng is aware, but if anything that makes it more difficult for him to shake himself out of it. The way he’s reacting is the reason he wanted to keep his feelings for Ten a secret in the first place: they make his personality shrivel back into a teenager’s, one who’s too lovelorn to be assertive.

There’s a knock on the door. Guanheng wants to shoo them away, whoever it is, but he’s too embarrassed to address them as though they’re a concerned parent come to check up on him. He can hear some words called out from the other side but his head is pulled under his covers and he can’t make out what they’ve said.

“What are you doing?” someone asks. It’s Ten, and of course it is. “Get up.”

From vocal tone alone, he doesn’t sound upset, but he isn’t apathetic either. Guanheng peeks out his eyes first, before deciding to get out of his blankets entirely. Even if he can feel his face burning, he shouldn’t be acting the way he is.

“From the weird looks Yukhei and Yangyang were giving me during dinner,” Ten starts, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “I figured we should talk.”

“Okay,” Guanheng nods dumbly. “What about?”

Ten smiles in a way that makes Guanheng’s heart pulse so strongly that it feels like it’s jumping from his chest. “I’m worried I misunderstood you earlier. Can you repeat it to me?” he asks. “In English, so I’m sure I get it all.”

Guanheng digs his teeth into his lip. Ten doesn’t let up.

“Please and thank you,” Ten says, switching tongues.

“I didn’t want you to find out right now, or like that, but maybe I didn’t want you to find out at all. I’ve felt this way for so long that it didn’t feel like I could actually tell you.” Guanheng has to work up the courage to bring his gaze upward, meet Ten’s eyes as he speaks. “I didn’t want to risk anything. I didn’t want to…destabilize your life even more.”

“I’m not afraid of instability. It’s my career. I love it,” Ten says, firmly keeping eye contact. “But as for everything else, why wouldn’t I want to know? To be with you?”

“You want to be with me?” Guanheng asks quietly.

“Maybe. I haven’t thought about this long enough to get that far,” Ten admits, clasped hands letting him fidget with the rings on his fingers. “But is that what you want?”

Guanheng idles, his mind racing but yielding nothing useful, only his instinct left to guide his actions. “Of course it is,” he says. “You heard me earlier, right? I guess I’m in love with you.”

“Good. I might be a little in love with you too.” Ten smiles, widely, and Guanheng wonders how someone could be so pretty.

 

It takes even less time for everyone to find out that they’re together, in reverse chronological order this time. Kun deduces it immediately by the way Guanheng’s laugh gets extra squeaky whenever Ten says a thing. It doesn’t even have to be funny to set him off, and about seven delighted noises in one day makes him pull the both of them aside to confirm it.

“We’re trying to keep it lowkey,” Guanheng whispered, with Ten adding, “For now.”

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” Kun says, lips then curving into a smile. “I’m happy for you two.”

 

Dejun finds out when Guanheng returns one of his books with pencil hearts drawn in the margins. He’d hit him over the head with it, he said disapprovingly as he took an eraser to the pages, but it’s better than when Guanheng returned his books dog-eared.

 

Yangyang and Yukhei find out one after another, their suspicions resulting them in observing Ten and Guanheng locking themselves into Ten’s room. A loud knock on the door made Guanheng yelp in surprise and Ten loudly shush him as he went to open it just enough to peek his head out.

“Can I help you?” Ten asks innocuously, although Guanheng is already going over how to most succinctly explain the story they’ve already told two members.

“This sneaking about is really distasteful, you two,” Yangyang says with his arms crossed, expression smug with an undeserved self-righteousness.

“I’ve seen both of you eat lao gan ma on toast,” Ten huffs in protest. “Don’t talk to me about distasteful.”

Yukhei frowns. “Only because Dejun mentioned it!”

 

Then there was Sicheng, who they figured they should tell since it was now a secret to no one but him. Neither of them could predict how he would react, although they hardly expected it to be severe. It’s Sicheng, after all, who’s far too invested in his own world because as far as any of them are concerned, it _is_ his world, and they’re all just living in it.

“So, when are you two going to tell me?” he asks, approaching the both of them from behind and putting either arm around their shoulders. Hardly the appropriate time, considering they’re on final stand-by, waiting for the floor beneath them to begin carrying them up towards the stage so they can be filmed for _national television_.

“How long have you known?” Ten recovers faster than Guanheng, because he’s known Sicheng longer and has surely come to expect this from him.

Sicheng scoffs, unimpressed but not offended. “What do you take me for? I’ve known for months.”

“We’ve only been together for three weeks,” Guanheng corrects him meekly. His bandmate’s knowledge of the relationship shouldn’t come as a surprise, really, if one recalled that Sicheng never misses a thing. Recalling his reticence is sometimes a challenge if incorrectly interpreted as vague silence.

Sicheng tuts at him. “I mean I’d known about you liking Ten for months.”

“And you never said anything?” Guanheng asks, inwardly calculating whether that had made Sicheng the first to know, even before Yukhei.

“Wasn’t my business to intrude,” Sicheng grins. “But I could tell you had it really bad for him.”

“Aw, babe, you had a crush on me! That’s embarrassing.” Ten lets out a cackle that makes Guanheng, for reasons beyond his comprehension, flush.

“We’re dating,” he says, in some means of protest.

Ten laughs, and the platform carrying all of them begins to rise, prompting him to shoo Sicheng to return to his place. “Still.”

 

“Do you remember that time you came out into the living room in the middle of the night and I was sitting by the balcony?”

Guanheng sets his book down on the nightstand. He thought Ten had fallen asleep, his eyes having been closed for the past little while. What had started as Ten wanting to implore Guanheng to get out of bed on this slow morning became Ten slipping in next to him, snuggling close to his side, and seemingly having returned to sleep.

“I do,” Guanheng says, brushing his thumb against Ten’s cheek. It makes the older man sigh contently, and he rolls his head, so they meet eyes, and Guanheng just smiles. He treasures this moment the most until the next.

“Do you remember what I said about not having a permanent home?” Ten asks. His tone sounds neither happy nor sad, leading Guanheng to question where this is going.

He nods, tightening his arms around Ten without hesitation. Although they had never talked about it, he still thought about that night from time to time, pondering over whether it was something they could talk about _now_ , in this stage of their relationship.

“I just wanted to say…” Ten starts, with Guanheng now noticing this conversation has been in English. In the group, between them, code-switching became unnoticeable. Still, Guanheng had taken note of one thing: Ten speaks in English when he wants to be absolutely clear, with no room for misinterpretation.

“Yeah?” Guanheng urges him on, seeing Ten’s confidence seem to falter. It’s not a look he’s used to seeing on him, and it makes him worried for a moment until he continues.

“You feel like home.” Ten smiles so brilliantly after he lets those words loose, and Guanheng thinks he would pick out every observable star to confirm that none of them are nearly as radiant as Ten. Sometimes he stops and thinks that his pipe dream will unravel, but dismisses such thoughts because it would be a disservice. To Ten, who’s teeth and bone and blood, and Guanheng wants to give to him so much love and warmth that it’s all just as real.

“My home.”

“Mine too.”

**Author's Note:**

> yeah this only took me a few decades to finish.. i didn't realize until having a conversation w/ eshi that this is my first canon fic which, while having realized while writing, made me acutely reevaluate everything about it. anw i love my wayv boys so much and truly honestly wholeheartedly this is my love letter to ten too i love HIM so much !! as always thank you for reading pls let me know what you thought uwu
> 
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